Just a quick thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review. Your comments are greatly appreciated.
BF
Strangers
Harry was nervous as he sat in the same booth he, Ron and Hermione had escaped to all those years ago. The café hadn't changed; it retained the same sense of seediness and the perceptible patina of grease that seemed to lie everywhere. He did not know why he had suggested to Hermione that they meet here; the whole scene brought back memories that were still raw.
It was because there had been three of them the last time, he knew. All dressed up and nowhere to go he remembered. They had been walking down Tottenham Court Road in their wedding finery and he remembered feeling some alarm at their predicament. That had been until Hermione had informed them that she had everything they needed shrunk into a single bag. He smiled at the memory; trust Hermione to think of everything.
He looked up as the bell above the door gave a short tinkle and there she was. He felt his chest constrict as he set eyes on her for the first time in nearly a year and it took all of his willpower not to rush over and embrace her. She looked fantastic, he saw. He had always considered her pretty, but since leaving Hogwarts she had blossomed into a beautiful, sensual young woman. Ron had been a lucky guy. As he watched her cast her glance around the room, he noticed the subtle changes in her from last year. She looked tired and her face was lined; clear evidence of just how difficult things had been for her. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He had to remain aloof, he told himself. He had hurt her so much; he didn't want to be a further burden. Indeed, it was only out of dire necessity that he had suggested they meet. He made sure to keep his guard up as he stood to greet her.
And was taken aback completely at her reaction.
'Oh, Harry,' sobbed Hermione as she thrust her arms around him and buried her head into his chest, her tears falling freely. He didn't know how to react to this and as a result he merely stood straight as a ramrod, his arms by his sides as Hermione held him tight. They stood like that for some time before she finally released him and looked directly into his eyes. He found himself averting his gaze, unable to meet her scrutiny. She sensed his discomfort and turned her face away, wiping her eyes as she did so.
'Thanks for coming,' said Harry, formally. A long awkward silence developed as they stood; neither knowing what to say next. It was as if they were two strangers thrust together for the first time and he found the experience very disconcerting. This was Hermione, for God's sake! He cleared his throat.
'Would you mind if we go for a walk? I thought it would be a good idea to come here but…' He left the rest unsaid but Hermione knew what he was thinking. Ron's memory was hanging over this place like a cloud. She nodded her agreement, unsure as to how to approach this remote, stiff Harry. The one glance she'd had into his eyes told the story and she was extremely disconcerted with the complete absence of life in her friend.
'Sure,' she replied, almost too brightly. Let's go.' She offered him her hand but he pretended not to have noticed as he stepped past her to open the door and hold it for her. Hermione tried not to let her dismay at this little rejection show as she passed him and stepped back onto Tottenham Court Road. The two of them began walking about a yard apart.
'I brought you this,' said Hermione, as she removed Harry's wand from her pocket. He looked at it and she thought she saw a brief flicker of disgust on his features. He took it tentatively and turned it over in his hands.
'I thought you would need it,' she added.
'Thank you,' he replied in a strange voice. It had not occurred to him that she might bring it; this symbol of the life he had rejected. Taking it back now was a symbol of a different sort, he realised; a symbol that the magical world had reclaimed him. He had to resist a sudden urge to snap it in two. Maybe later; I might need it for a few days. With a sigh he placed it in his pocket.
'So where have you been?' asked Hermione tentatively after another period of silence.
Harry seemed to consider the question. 'I'd rather not say if you don't mind. It's not important right now.' He walked on and had travelled a few steps before he realised that Hermione had stopped walking. He turned and saw to his dismay that she was crying again. 'What?' he asked genuinely perplexed at her behaviour.
In response, Hermione marched towards him, her eyes brown eyes now blazing despite her tears.
Whack!
Harry reeled from the blow to his face but quickly righted himself and stared impassively back at her. He ignored the shocked looks from the passers-by who had witnessed the scene and watched dispassionately as Hermione worked herself up into a rage.
'What do you mean "it's not important"? How dare you! I have been worried sick about you and you have the nerve to tell me it's not important? I'm of a mind to whack you again, Harry James Potter!'
'Go ahead. It's no more than I deserve. Take your best shot; it might make you feel better.'
Hermione was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer but noticed a droplet of blood leak out from the side of his mouth. She really had caught him a good one, and the realisation that she had hurt her friend checked her anger. What made it worse was the fact that Harry just stood there and took it like a dumb animal. He really did believe that he deserved it. She closed her eyes in frustration.
'Harry,' she began in a small voice, 'Ron's death wasn't your fault.'
Harry's face turned white at the words, but he recovered enough to reply. 'Of course it was my fault. I was there, remember? I could have stopped him, but I let him go. The Ministry agreed. So did you,' he added accusingly.
'Would it help if I told you I was sorry? That I didn't mean for you to leave?'
'Then why say it, Hermione?' he asked, and she cringed at the scorn in his voice as he uttered her name. 'You wanted me to leave, so I left. It was better for everyone that I did.'
She shook her head. 'Oh, Harry; don't ever think that. Is this why you have stayed away for so long? You thought we all blamed you? I didn't mean for you to leave for good; I just couldn't face you at that moment. I was trying to process events myself; it all happened so fast. I had just lost my fiancé, remember? I didn't have room for compassion for anyone else, and then Ginny went off on one. I didn't mean the words to come out the way they did. No one blames you, Harry. No one ever did.'
'I did,' he replied. 'I still do. It's why I had to go. It's why I will go again when this is over,' he added defiantly.
Hermione did not reply to this immediately and concealed her alarm at the words. He was here now and she knew that - if given the chance - she could persuade him otherwise. She just needed an opening to reach in and pull him back from his personal place of darkness. Instead of replying to his comment, she removed a hankie from her pocket and leaned forward to wipe the blood from his face. He flinched at her touch, but allowed himself to be ministered.
'The Harry Potter I knew wouldn't wallow for so long in self pity. That's not my Harry,' she said softly as she dabbed at his mouth.
'The Harry Potter you knew is gone,' he replied. She stopped cleaning his lip and looked into his eyes as he spoke. Her look disconcerted him; she seemed to be looking into him, as if evaluating his very being and it made him feel extremely uncomfortable.
'Besides;' he continued in order to avert her gaze, 'I never was "your Harry,"' he added brutally.
He could have cut his tongue out of his mouth for saying this as he watched Hermione's expression crumple at the words. Her face turned white and her eyes widened in shock. An overwhelming expression of regret and sorrow flashed on her features before she turned her back to him and began walking away quickly, her arms folded, her head down. She continued like this for a few yards before breaking into a shambling run, her arms still hugging her sides. Harry watched her leave and felt he had gone as low as it was possible to go. Turning his gaze to the heavens for a moment, he mentally berated himself for his crassness. Why had he said that? Why was it he always hurt those that mattered most to him?
'Hermione! Come back!' he exclaimed as he began to run after her. He caught up with her as she reached the street corner and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her round to face him. For a brief moment they stared into each other's eyes, faces only inches apart. Around them, the London traffic thundered past, but both were oblivious to their surroundings.
'I didn't mean that,' he blurted, wiping her cheeks with his thumbs in a vain attempt to stem the flood of tears that had begun to flow from her eyes. 'I'm so sorry, Hermione; I really didn't mean that. If anyone can lay claim to me, it's you. It always has been you. I've hurt you enough; I didn't ask you here to hurt you some more. I'm just being a stupid bastard. Again. I'm so sorry. Forgive me? Please?' he begged.
Hermione nodded her acceptance of his apology and through the blur of her tears saw the one thing she had been looking for since she had first set eyes on him again.
Emotion. He really was sorry; she had glimpsed the remorse in his eyes before the shutter had fallen once again, and his tone was that of a lost child. He is in so much pain; so lonely and afraid, she thought. But that one brief flash of genuine, unrepressed feeling was enough to convince her that he was not beyond redemption. He had wounded her deeply with his words - she had felt them like a knife in the heart - but his apology more than made up for his brutality. He had given her the one thing she had been seeking since meeting this new, cold Harry. Hope. Hope that she might be able to rekindle the fire in his eyes once more. She wiped her eyes and held out her hand to him once again, knowing fine well that he would not refuse her now. She felt no guilt for using the situation to her advantage. He never could handle a crying woman.
Harry considered the offered hand for a long moment before reaching out his own and clasping it. He took it as a drowning man would clasp at a lifeline and she gave his fingers a soft squeeze of reassurance. In silence, they continued their walk hand in hand, each processing what had just happened. It was some time before either of them spoke.
'Harry? Can I ask you something?' began Hermione, keen to put the last few minutes behind them for the moment. 'Do you intend seeing anyone else? I know that Ginny was very upset when you asked to see me alone. Not that I'm blaming you for that,' she added hastily.
Harry considered her question. 'I don't know. I don't know if I could face them after what happened.'
'They don't blame you Harry. Arthur asked me to pass on his love.' She saw him grimace at this, almost as if the sentiment disgusted him. 'I know that Ginny feels the same,' she added. 'She's missed you.'
He shrugged. 'Ginny and I are over,' he said. 'I know she blames me. She made that perfectly clear.'
Hermione shook her head. 'No, she doesn't. She was upset, Harry. She didn't mean it.'
'But she said it. Do you honestly think we could have a future with that hanging over us? Every time we argued or fought, it would be right there, like a presence in the room.' He shook his head. 'There's absolutely no chance of us ever getting together again. Not a fucking chance in hell.' His tone was harsh.
Hermione did not know how to react to the profanity, or the sentiment behind the words. Harry and Ginny were over; there was no doubt about that. She was saddened for her red-haired friend, but right now her priority was the broken man walking hand in hand with her. She decided to change tack.
'Harry? If you intend leaving again after Draco's case is over, why did you return? Why come back for the Malfoys?' She unsuccessfully tried to keep the bitterness from creeping into her tone.
Harry noticed the reproof in her voice and took what seemed like an age before replying. 'It's hard to explain.'
'Try me.'
He took a deep breath. 'Narcissa said something to me that got me thinking. She believes Draco to be innocent and said that if this was true then he must have been framed.'
'That makes sense, but there must be something else.'
'There is. She said that if someone was deliberately attacking her family for betraying Voldemort, then perhaps the same person was responsible for Ron's death.'
Silence greeted these words for a long moment.
'That's a bit of a leap, Harry,' Hermione finally replied. 'There is no reason to think that the two cases are connected. The Ministry still thinks it was the escaped Death Eaters that killed Ron.'
'I know; but there exists the possibility that someone is behind all this, you have to concede that? Besides, it occurred to me that we never did find out for sure who killed Ron. What if it was someone else? The escapees might be a red herring.' He paused, considering what to say next. When he spoke, his words were said so quietly that Hermione had to strain to hear them. 'Whilst I should never have let him enter the building, it doesn't explain the fact that someone set that trap. It may have been my fault, but I didn't mean to kill him.' His tone hardened. 'Someone else did though.'
Hermione chose her next words carefully. 'Has it occurred to you that Ron wasn't the target?'
Harry laughed bitterly. 'Oh, yes. I realised that straight away. They were after me, whoever they are. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about that. Poor Ron finally paid the price for being my friend. Everyone does, eventually,' he added bitterly
Hermione didn't know how to respond to this, finally realising the true reason for his self imposed suffering. He was afraid; afraid for those he loved and afraid of being hurt again. Ginny had been correct; it was his 'saving people thing.' She couldn't deal with that right now though - it was too much to take in.
'So that's why you returned? Because you think the cases are connected?' she asked.
'Not exactly. If Draco has been framed, then a conspiracy exists; one that goes very high up. That means that someone in the Auror department is probably involved too. This case allows me access to the Auror files. All the Auror files,' he added meaningfully. 'I just want to make amends. I know I can't bring Ron back, but if I could find out who it was that killed him, then I could maybe bring some peace to Arthur and Molly. And to you,' he added softly.
Hermione took some time to digest this. His reasons for staying away were pretty much what she thought they would be. It gave her no pleasure to realise that she had been correct in her assumptions for the man holding her hand at the moment was a shadow of the man he had once been. She had no idea how to go about changing this and now wasn't the time to try. Besides, there was one other thing bothering her right now.
'Harry? How did Narcissa find you? I have been trying for months.'
Harry looked amused for a moment. 'I know - I saw your advert.' He saw the hurt expression in her eyes but ignored it. 'It was Andromeda. Narcissa knew that I would never cut Teddy out of my life and figured that Andromeda would be in contact with me. She was right,' he added, admiration in his voice.
'Andromeda? But she was one of the first people I spoke to after you had gone! How could she have lied to me? And Teddy! He never said a word!' Hermione was indignant.
'Because I asked her to tell no one,' replied Harry. 'Besides, how long after I had gone did you think to speak to her?'
'About two weeks after you left. Why?'
'Because I never got in touch with her for nearly a month.' Harry sounded amused. 'Andromeda never lied; she really didn't know where I was when you asked her. You were a victim of your own cleverness, Hermione. You worked it out too soon.' His tone was a mixture of amusement and admiration. She really does have me figured out.
The explanation seemed to mollify Hermione, who cursed herself for not returning to Andromeda's. With a sigh, she decided to change tack. 'So why did you want to see me, Harry?' she asked, the bitterness creeping into in her tone once again. 'I had hoped it was because we are friends, but it's clear you didn't come back for me, so why?'
It pained him to hear her speak like this, but it was necessary.
'I need your help,' he said simply.
'Help? To do what?'
'To find an elf.'
She stopped walking and looked at him in astonishment for a moment, wondering what the hell he was talking about. He seemed to notice her confusion.
'It's a long story. Let me explain.'
She took his hand again and for the next few minutes as they walked, he related to her what he had discovered so far. It occurred to him that he had told Draco to trust no one, but he reasoned that Hermione didn't count. He knew that despite everything that had happened, he could still trust her with his life if need be.
'So you need help to find an elf?' she asked, once he had finished. Harry suppressed the smile that threatened to form at the words. Despite the situation, she was clearly intrigued by the problem.
'Yeah; I don't know where to begin. I thought it would be a good idea if you could check your records for anything unusual.'
'Such as?'
Harry shrugged. 'I don't know. Missing elves? Mistreated? Previous crimes, perhaps? Anything you think out of the ordinary, really. I know you get on well with them; perhaps you might hear something on their grapevine.'
She considered his request for a long moment, aware that Harry seemed to become more animated when considering the case. She realised that this gave her an opportunity to remain in contact with him. She might never see him again if she refused.
Harry mistook her silence for refusal. 'Hermione? If I can't find anything then Draco is in big trouble. I know he's an arse but I do not think he is guilty. I don't like the idea of anyone receiving the Kiss, never mind an innocent man. Won't you help? Please?'
Hermione shook her head. 'I'm not going to help you for the sake of Draco Malfoy.' She saw the disappointment on his face, so continued. 'I'm going to do it because you have asked me to, Harry,' she added softly. She was reaching out to him, but saw him frown, almost in disapproval.
'But, Hermione, this isn't about me; it's about Draco.'
She stopped walking and turned to face him, suddenly furious with him and his attitude of self reproach. Eleven months of anxiety, grief and frustration suddenly burst forth and Harry Potter found himself right in the firing line.
'Damn you, Harry! Not another word of reproach! No more self pity!' she exclaimed, jabbing his chest with her finger as she spoke and ignoring the sudden flash of surprise on his features. 'As far as our world is concerned,' continued Hermione, really getting up a head of steam now, 'we're both Muggleborns; we are outsiders and have no magical family to speak of. You are all I have left and I am all you've got, so we are going to stick together whether you like it or not!'
She had not noticed that Harry had hastily retreated from the ball of fury that jabbed at him and was now backed up against a wall, unable to escape. Hermione ranted on, oblivious to his predicament.
'Ron was taken from me; there is no way on God's Earth that I am going to let you go too. You can wallow in self pity all you want because I'm not letting go. Not again. I'm going to help you with this damn case and then I am going to sort you out and you have no say in the matter; none at all. I'm not giving up on you, Harry. You may think you can run from the Magical World, but you can't run from me, Harry James Potter. I will not allow it. I will see you in my office at half past one tomorrow and you had better be there because if I have to come after you, there will be hell to pay!'
With her sermon delivered, Hermione turned on her heels and stormed off, leaving an astonished Harry standing alone, his back against the wall and breathing deeply.
Fucking hell…
***********
'So how is he?' asked Ginny as she handed her friend a glass of wine. Hermione had returned to the Burrow after parting from Harry and her mind was still churning. She had expected the place to be empty, but no one had gone home; the kitchen was as full as it had been when she had left to meet Harry. She took the offered glass with a trembling hand and took a sip of wine as she considered Ginny's question.
'Alone. Afraid. I think he's cracking up, truth be told.' She looked at the others. 'He's bottling everything up. He still blames himself for Ron's death and he thinks that anyone he gets close to will be hurt. He's very brittle and I fear that he is close to breaking.' She put her head in her hands. 'He won't let me in. He won't let anyone in,' she added in frustration.
'Maybe he will come round once he sees all of his friends again?' suggested Minerva.
Hermione shook her head. 'No; he's as cold as ice. He has no feeling; it's as if he's had his soul ripped out. It hurt to see him like that. It was Harry, but it wasn't, if you know what I mean. He's not the same person.'
'Who is?' asked Arthur. 'We have all had to deal with events in our own way. Don't give up on him, Hermione.' His voice was thick as he considered what he'd had to deal with. Losing two sons was enough to change any man.
'I don't intend to, but it's hard. He's had so much happen to him.' She looked at Arthur. 'At first, I missed Ron so much it physically hurt. I still think of him every day, but I have started to get over him. I will always miss him, but I have done my grieving for him. Harry hasn't.' She sat back, a wistful expression on her face. 'He was so happy, so full of hope before everything happened. I think he had finally put Voldemort behind him. Ron told me that for the first time he thought Harry was looking forward to the future.' She smiled sadly. 'It must have been true for Ron to notice it. But he had that snatched from him. Just when he thought he had the life he wanted, it was snatched from him. I think he's afraid to try again.'
'Maybe I should try?' suggested Ginny. 'We were engaged - technically we still are,' she added with a grim smile. 'He never broke it off - he just left,' she added in response to the raised eyebrows. 'I suppose I know him better than anyone; maybe I should have a go.'
Hermione said nothing in response to Ginny, but she felt a touch of resentment at her assertion. How dare she presume so much! Hermione was not sure if Harry could ever be redeemed but she was absolutely certain on one simple fact; she knew Harry Potter better than anyone alive. She knew him better than he knew himself.
And she knew Ginny had no chance at getting through to him, but she said nothing. She had not told her of Harry's words, deciding that was for Harry to tell. Instead, she let her mind ponder on her own parting words to him. She had not meant to lose her temper, but his aloofness and icy demeanour had irritated her more than she thought possible. She was worried now; what if he did run off again? She closed her eyes and considered what she had done. Speaking to him the way she had could finally tip him over the edge.
Well, too late for regrets.
She considered Harry's request that she find a specific house elf. She could scarcely believe it when he told her what he had discovered in Malfoy's mind; a house elf involved in a brutal murder? It didn't add up.
But then a lot of things didn't add up in this case. She just hoped Harry wasn't getting in over his head. He would come to see her tomorrow, she reasoned. He would need the help. At least, she hoped that was the case anyway. There was no predicting what this Harry would do. Apparently he was staying at Malfoy Manor tonight - of all places - and she still could not get her head round the sudden shift in allegiances that had occurred. Potter and Malfoy? Who'd have thought it?
Sighing, she took a sip of her wine and wondered if she would ever be able to get her friend back. One day at a time, she thought.
***********
Harry Potter sat in a large, high backed leather armchair in front of a roaring log fire and took a sip from a glass of brandy that Narcissa had provided him with after dinner. He had elected to stay at Malfoy Manor after realising that it was probably the best location under the circumstances. The flat he once shared with Ginny was not an option - for all he knew she still lived there. The other alternatives - the Burrow or Hermione's flat - were not feasible at the minute either; and he certainly was not prepared to return to Grimmauld Place. Besides; he had requested that Dawlish meet him here at nine tomorrow morning. It was probably best that he stay the night.
Dinner had been hugely amusing and it occurred to him that he only seemed to find humour in other people's discomfort these days. Narcissa could not have been a better hostess, but Lucius had looked as if he was going to choke on the roast venison they had enjoyed. The elder Malfoy had declined to join him in a brandy to no one's surprise. In fact, Lucius had not said a word to him during the meal. He had barely been able to cast a glance in Harry's direction.
Now, as he mulled over what he had learned today, Harry found his mind distracted by thoughts of Hermione.
Damn her! She knew exactly what buttons to push in order to get him to open up and he'd surprised himself by forgetting just how much he was willing to do for her. When he had seen the look of hurt on her face when he'd spoken so brutally to her, he'd felt his defences crumble. He never could bear to see her in distress.
She had been correct though. He was her Harry. He always had been, even when they were kids - even when she had been engaged to Ron. She was his best friend. Whilst it was true that Ron had been his best mate, there was no denying the fact that Hermione Granger was the friend he could depend on absolutely - for anything. She had never let him down; not once. Even when she questioned his decision to go to the Ministry in fifth year she had still accompanied him, despite her reservations. In fourth year, she alone in the entire school had stuck by him. And when Ron had abandoned him during the search for the Horcruxes, she had remained with him despite the yearnings of her heart. She must have wanted to be with Ron but nevertheless had stayed despite the fact that his leadership up to that point had been decidedly lacking, to say the least. There was a subtle difference between one's best friend and best mate, but the difference existed - at least in his own mind. A best friend did not walk out when things got tough whereas a best mate might.
Walk out. Just as he had done after Ron had died. He closed his eyes, feeling the guilt overwhelm him. She had needed him and he had not been there for her. It was just one more thing to add to the list of things he would never forgive himself for. Hermione might not blame him for Ron's death, but he did and always would. Even now, despite his cowardice, she was willing to help him. He knew she had not agreed to assist for the sake of Draco Malfoy; no, he knew it was because he had asked her to. She would do anything for him and he was aware that he would do anything for her - even now. He just hoped she did not ask him to do something that would finally break him. He was vaguely aware that he might be falling to pieces and that was yet another reason for remaining aloof. When he finally did go into meltdown, he did not want Hermione anywhere near him in case she caught some of the shrapnel that was sure to fly when he came apart.
He didn't know whether to see her tomorrow. He had actually forgotten what Hermione Granger could be like once she had up a full head of steam. She had spoken to him as only a best friend could; with a frankness and brutality that had astonished him.
I'm not giving up on you, Harry.
She never had been a quitter, he knew, but perhaps he was a challenge too far. He put his glass down and held his head in his hands.
What happened to us? he asked the night in despair. It was always worse at night. It was during darkness that the past came to haunt him. It was why he had been drinking so heavily; only through alcohol could he drive away the demons and sleep. Each new day, his body presented its bill and each day he paid it and carried on as before.
But not tonight, he told himself. He was resolved to get to the bottom of the Malfoy case and he knew that he could not afford to be anything less than totally focussed. This fine brandy would be the only solace he would have tonight; he wanted to be sober when he considered what to about Hermione tomorrow. As a result, he knew that later, he would have to face his demons alone.
But face them he would, he thought grimly.